Welcome to Sunnyville
by KartheyM
Summary: Buffy, AKA Beth Summers, "reincarnated" as a gov't agent who doesn't believe in the supernatural-and she's competition for the Warehouse agents and a dangerous artifact. Can the two groups reconcile their differences in time to save Sunnyville, or will this be the artifact that got away? (Gratuitous use of names and locations from BtVS, but not necessarily those characters!)
1. Chapter 1: The Ping's The Thing

"Annd," Claudia worked furiously at the keys, "done!" she made the last few keystrokes and raised her hands in the air like a chess champion.

"Done!" Myka echoed from over by the cataloguing drawers.

Pete burst into the office from the Warehouse floor, closely followed by Steve. "Haha! We—" he saw both ladies watching them with their hands in the air. "—didn't beat you," he finished disappointedly.

Myka grinned at him, "I guess somebody learned their lesson about what NOT to dare!" she teased.

Steve was a bit more good-natured about it. He slapped Claudia's raised hands in a double-high-five. "Whoo! Man, we were booking it down there, but it still takes longer to physically scan the shelves than it does to run inventory diagnostics."

"Not to mention verifying the card catalog," Myka added. "Gosh, I don't want to read another word for the next two hours!"

"Oops, ya hear that, Claude?" Pete joked, "Myka doesn't want to read? Suspicious!"

"Sounds like a whammy to me," Claudia went along in mock seriousness. "Are you sure you're feeling all right, Myka?"

Steve joined in, "Do you smell fudge?"

Myka rolled her eyes, "You guys are behaving like three-year-olds! I merely said two hours, to counteract the five I've just spent scanning drawer after drawer! Though—" she sniffed deep and frowned. "I do smell chocolate..."

"Fudge or liquid?" Pete asked.

Myka frowned toward the front door. "It might even be—"

Abigail swept into the room bearing a tray full of decadent brown squares. "Brownies, anyone?" she offered.

The Warehouse agents all convened at the table where she set the tray. They all ate and agreed they were the best brownies anyone had tasted in a long time.

"Yum!" Myka sighed, "those hit the spot."

"Yeah!" Pete agreed through a mouthful of his last one. "We never get brownies anymore! It's like, what's the occasion?"

"I can answer that!" cried a voice from the doorway. Artie stepped into the room with a newspaper in his hand. "There's your occasion, Agent Lattimer."

Pete picked it up and read the circled article. "Mysterious death stumps law enforcement?"

Myka came around to read it too, but the first thing she noticed was the location. "Sunnyville?" she turned to Artie, "That's in—"

"Yes, I know," the portly caretaker nodded, "California. You have a flight in three hours."

"Me?" Myka squealed.

"Yes—and Pete and Steve." He handed her three files. "Each of you has the information, money, and tickets you need in there. Go on!"

"What about me?" Claudia whined.

Artie stared at her and shifted his glasses. "This day begins your official training to be caretaker. I have also arranged for you to be home base for the others, so if they need any additional information, I've instructed them to call you, not me."

"Dangit," Claudia scuffed the floor with her hightop.

"Meanwhile," Artie turned to leave and beckoned Claudia to follow, "You can explain to me just how you all were able to complete sorting the Warehouse so miraculously fast."

A sheepish grin crawled across Claudia's face. "Oh, y'know..."

**Sunnyville, CA**

The three Warehouse agents pulled up in front of the Sunnyville Academy. Several groups of professional security and law enforcement officers were on the scene already. Pete, Myka, and Steve glanced at each other and calmly shifted their badges to where they would be most obvious and accessible.

Myka pointed to a short, balding man speaking to a few officers, "Okay, that would be the Dean, Herman Blaine."

"Let's talk to him first," Pete agreed. The trio made their way over to the group.

A woman officer was gesturing to a map of the school and surrounding area. "—so to escape, we could reasonably expect the perpetrator to have chosen one of these doors, which would give him the most—"

Dean Blaine held up his hand as the three strangers approached. "Yeah, hang on. Can I help you?"  
All three fell into their professional roles.

"Agent Bering, Secret Service," Myka flashed her badge, "This is my partner, Agent Lattimer, and Agent Jinks, ATF. We heard you had a situation the other night. What happened?"

"Excuse me!" the woman whipped off her sunglasses and whirled around. "Agent Summers, CIA, and this is my partner," she gestured to a tall, dark-haired man standing next to her, "Agent Harris, FBI." She grinned at Myka, "So it looks like we have everyone we need here. You two can take your ATF agent and get on back to—where is your home office again?"

Everyone hesitated a bit too long on the answer, so Myka tried to cover, "Oh, well, we—"

"—are going!" Steve cut in, grabbing Myka's elbow. "Sorry to have bothered, good luck on finding the killer!"

Myka tried to jerk away, but Steve didn't let go until they were all back in the car.

"What the heck was that?" she whirled on Steve.

"Mykes," Pete tried to reason, "she gave us the brush."

"Yeah," Myka acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean you just take it lying down!"

"Myka," Steve defended, "she's CIA!"

"So?" the young woman exploded, "We outrank her! It doesn't—"

"Myka," he repeated more forcefully, "_She's CIA_! Think about it!"

Myka stopped. "Wait—if she's CIA..."

"With a partner from the FBI," Steve added.

"What in the world would those two organizations have to do with highschool?" Pete wondered from the back seat.

All three jumped at a rap on Myka's window. It was Agent Summers.  
"Hey, Service!" she hollered, "can we talk a minute?"

Myka nodded, and Summers moved away from the door to let her out. Steve and Pete stepped out as well.

"So," Summers began slowly, "you wanna tell me what you're really doing out here, Agent Bering?" She nailed the brunette with steely hazel eyes.

Myka smiled and tried to play nice, "You know I'd love to, but our involvement has got to stay classified on this assign—"

"Yeah, about that," Summers smirked. "See, a friend of mine works in the department that issues the paperwork for the Secret Service, and I just heard that you two haven't been on active duty since, oh—_last administration_, was it?"

Myka and Pete glanced at one another.

Summers smiled, "That's what I thought. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to worry about than a gang of has-beens. Come on, Xander," she said to her partner. "Let's go question the students."  
Summers and Harris stalked away.

Myka blinked, "That's it?"

"Apparently so," Pete huffed.

"What do we do now?" Steve asked.

Myka pondered, "She didn't confiscate our badges or ban us from the crime scene. I think we're pretty safe to investigate on our own."

"Yeah, just stay out of her way!" Pete remarked as the trio headed back toward the school.

The secretary didn't hesitate when she saw the badges. Apparently few other people shared the belligerent agent's sentiments. The secretary led them down the hall to the gymnasium. In a locker room at the back, one bank of lockers was cordoned off with crime scene tape. The three Warehouse agents stared.

A body had evidently been removed from one of the lockers by the forensic team and placed on the bench. From this angle it was difficult to miss the cause of death: two dark puncture wounds on the neck of a young man who appeared to have been drained of all his blood.

"Artie did say this was an artifact," Steve murmured, "right?"

"No way..." Myka glanced at the gleam in Pete's eye. "Don't say it!"

He grinned, "Vampires! Awesome!"


	2. Chapter 2: Two is a Crowd

The three agents stood in the locker room discussing the situation.  
"First of all," Myka began, "it can't be a vampire because vampires don't exist!"

"Myka, look at the puncture holes!" Pete objected. "Don't they look like bite marks to you? Some viciously long fangs?" He bared his own teeth in demonstration.

"Would you stop acting like a twelve-year-old?" Myka snapped.

"If it's not a vampire," Steve mused, staring at the body, "what else could it be?"

Myka shrugged, "Okay, obviously we're dealing with an artifact that causes the bearer to maybe follow the stereotypes of a vampire, but," she stared hard at Pete, "we are looking for the artifact, _not_ a vampire!"

"Geez, okay, calm down," Pete sobered in a moment. "So what are we looking for, then? Plastic fangs? A cape? Maybe a fob chain on a tartan vest, or some kind of hairclip?"

Myka sighed, "Okay, we've learned all we can from the victim. Now I guess we see what some of the other students know."

"That's a good idea," Steve agreed. "We can start with the two that discovered the body: Willow Rosenberg and Harmony Kendall."

Myka shot him a puzzled look, "How did you know that?"

Steve pulled a news clipping from his pocket. "I saved the article and memorized it on the way here. You know, just in case any of it would be useful."

Pete nodded, "Let's talk to Willow and Harmony, then!"

They all returned to the school yard, where a blonde comforted a redhead. Both appeared to still be in shock.

"Hi," Myka approached cautiously.

The two girls looked up, showing the warehouse agents their tear-stained faces. "My name is Agent Bering, this is Agent Lattimer and Agent Jinks," Myka continued, "but you can call us Myka, Pete, and Steve."

"Oh," said the blonde, "I'm Harmony, and this," she gestured to the redhead, "is Willow."

Myka hesitated, unsure how to begin.

Willow blinked slowly, her chin trembling as she resisted crying. "You're going to ask us about Spike, like the other agents did," she guessed.

Myka balked, "Spike?"

"Spike Williams," Harmony explained, "the guy who was killed." She seemed to take it much more calmly than Willow did. "We found him in that locker."

Myka nodded and took a seat on the bench next to Harmony. "So what can you tell me about Spi—"

"He's a bully." Harmony didn't even wait for Myka to ask.

"Oh really?" Pete asked, "Are you saying he deserved to die?"

Harmony said, "Yes!"

At the same time, Willow picked up her head, "No! I mean, yeah, he was a jerk and all, but he—" she hiccoughed and started to breathe quickly in an attempt to remain calm, "He didn't—not like that!" She turned a pitiful expression on Myka, "You will find who did this, won't you?"

"That's what we intend to do," Pete assured her.

Willow managed a shy smile.

"But," Myka said, "we're not from around here, so we could really use your help."

Harmony rolled her eyes, but Willow nodded, "Sure; what do you need?"

"Well, first tell me what you know about Spike; did he have a group that he normally hung out with? Do you remember anyone actually ever threaten him or want to hurt him or something?"

Harmony smirked, "Well, duh! _Everybody_ wanted a piece of Spike!"

"Even you?" Steve asked her.

Harmony sneered at him.

Willow answered Myka, "As far as threats go, Spike was usually the one making them. He had a group of pals that followed him around, but it was mostly because they felt cool standing with him, not because they were actually friends. Any one of them could just as easily have...h-hurt him real bad."

Myka sighed, "Okay, let's just deal with the biggest scenarios."

"The big fights?" Harmony volunteered. "Oh, he's thrown down with Finn the school jock plenty of times!"

"And there was that one girl he was with for a while," Willow added, "Cornelia or something." She turned to Myka, "He's going out with her for three months straight, then the school puts on a formal and, poof—" she tossed her hands, "he shows up with someone else. They weren't together after that."

Harmony raised her gaze to recall more helpful incidents. "He had one kid, Jonathan, who did his homework almost all the time."

"He dated Anya for a while," Willow noted.

Pete glanced at Myka, "You got all those names?" he muttered.

She nodded.

He turned back to the girls, "Okay, last question: what were the names of his cronies?"

Harmony raised her eyebrows. "All of them?"

Myka placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "We just want to narrow the list of suspects as much as possible."

The girls thought for a moment.

"We can't remember all of them," Willow answered, "but there was Angus, Andy and Wes—"

"Oh, Ripper and Warren, too!" Harmony added.

"Got it," Myka nodded, "Okay, that's enough for now." She stood from the bench with a smile. "Well, you girls have been very helpful; you wouldn't mind sticking around town while we sort this out, just in case we need any more help, would you?"

"Of course not," Harmony gushed, "It's no problem at all! Whatever you need," she linked arms with Willow, "We'll be there!"

Myka nodded and turned. Pete waved as the three of them walked away. "Thanks, girls."

Harmony and Willow nodded and waved back.

Myka was glad to find Dean Blaine standing alone.

"Hello, Dean Blaine?" she called to him, "Agent Bering."

The Dean wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Who? Oh yes, the Secret Service. What can I do for you?"

Myka smiled; so Agent Summers' brush-off had not made the Dean suspicious; that was good. "We would like to question some of the students," she explained. "Do you happen to have a copy of the student roster?"

"Why, yes," the Dean opened the binder he carried and gave Myka a list of names.

One glance told her it wasn't the one she needed. "Mr. Blaine," she began, "there are some names missing from this list, and we're going to need contact info—" she stopped when he shook his head.

Mr. Blaine sighed, "I'm sorry, Agent Bering; for security reasons, the school is only allowed to issue one copy of the complete roster."

Myka frowned in confusion; why was this security measure necessary, and why was she being shut out? "Well, where can I get this copy from?"

The dean pointed past the trio. "The only copy was issued to Agent Summers. You'll have to ask her."

Myka groaned inside. What cruel fate was constantly pushing the two teams together? Why couldn't they just work separately? Or, better yet, why didn't Summers and Harris just give up and leave, already?

Myka carefully approached the two agents.

"Agent Summers?" she called.

Summers turned around and grinned, "Ah, Agent Bering! Did you want something? My help, perhaps?"

Myka huffed, "Look, I don't like the way this is turning out, either, but we'll find the culprit much faster if we work together!"

Summers smirked. "Okay, try this: how about Xander and I solve the case, and you three stay the hell out of our way?"

Myka felt the comebacks rising to her tongue, a thousand scathing remarks, but she kept them in check and said instead, "Dean Blaine told me you had the complete student roster."

Summers nodded, "Of course; Xander and I were going to question the likeliest suspects, and we needed their contact info."

"Have you gotten all you need?" Myka asked.

Summers glanced at the sheaf of papers in her hands. "I believe so."

Myka guessed that the CIA operative held the roster, and held out her hand, "May I see it?"

Summers grinned strangely and placed the sheaf of papers in Myka's hand. "Have at it!" she motioned to her parter, "Let's go, Xander."

Pete and Steve moved in close as Myka examined the list.

"That jerk!" Pete fumed.

"Well," Steve mused, "this is going to be tricky."

Summers had gone through the list and blacked out several names with black marker.

Myka stared at it; why had she blacked the names, and what if one of these was the killer?


	3. Chapter 3: On The Hunt

Part 3  
As much as Myka did not appreciate being hindered, there wasn't much any of them could do about it now.  
"That egotistic little—" Myka scanned the list. "Okay, here's a Cordelia Chase, that must be the Cordelia he dumped at the prom—so let's just work with the names we have and question the people from this list."

"Hey Mykes?" Pete warned, " What do you wanna bet the egomaniac is fixing to do the same thing?" He pointed to the train of vehicles leaving the school.

"Darn it, I forgot," Myka grumbled. "Why does she always have to be in our way? Why are we even here? Why is she here?"

Steve snorted, "Sounds like we could use this down time to find out more about this school and the artifact."

Myka and the others gathered at the Downtowner Motel to discuss what they knew and what they still needed to find out.

"Okay," Myka chortled, "the first thing we need to do is find out what Federal interest in this case might be, and why the redaction on the student roster. Basically, she's left us with only the phone numbers of a few people, and none of them were the cronies Willow and Harmony mentioned as having to do with Spike Williams." She tossed the censored papers onto the bed, "Not to mention that even Spike is not on this list, so we don't even know where to find him!"

Steve sighed, "Let's just keep focused on the one thing we can find out: the artifact that would cause someone to behave like a vampire." She dialed the Warehouse on the Farnsworth.

Back in the Warehouse, Claudia sat alone in Artie's office, a stack of file cards before her. As an exercise (and she suspected, to avoid her), Artie had given her the cards of a few artifacts in the warehouse and instructed her to focus on their forms until she could "feel" their presence and predict their location.  
Claudia, of course, was intrigued for the first ten minutes of the two hours Artie had given her. After that, she began to realize that she had been staring at mere text on a page, which might be an exciting thing for someone who wasn't named Claudia Donovan.

Abruptly, the Farnsworth rang. Claudia flew to the desk and flipped it open; at last, some action!  
"Hey Myka," she greeted her friend, "Did you unearth the mystery? How was the student killed? Any leads on what the artifact might be? How can I help?"

Myka blinked at the barrage. "Um, yeah," she stammered, "the student died of acute blood loss through two puncture wounds in his neck."

Claudia absently tapped on the desk. "Blood, neck, punct—" Her eyes got wide as a shiver ran down her spine. "Oh, no way! You guys are hunting down a vampire?"

"See?" she heard Pete's voice in the background, "That's just what I said!"

Myka did not look amused, "We're looking for an artifact that makes the user or wearer do things that we expect vampires to do."

Claudia smirked, but turned to the computer console. "On it," she stated, "searching for vampires."

"Meanwhile," Steve offered, "I've dug up information on the original Count Dracula, Vlad the Impaler."

Claudia waited as the aging computer scanned every shelf for something vampire-related. Maybe it would be faster if she could just _know _where an artifact was-she dismissed the thought when she considered how much work it would require to get there. While she waited, she listened to her three friends discuss the situation.

"Vlad was a count back in the early fifteenth century who earned his handle because impaling was his preferred form of punishment," Steve was saying.

"Geez!" Pete cried, "No wonder the guy was so quickly associated with a monster—he really was one!"

Claudia found some information, too. "Says here that he never punished the innocent, but enacted the cruelest punishment for the smallest crimes, even lying. Yeesh! This guy had an inflated sense of justice."

Myka spoke up. "Okay, the girls said Spike was a bully, and that he was mean and made other kids do what he wanted—maybe that's why he was killed."

"Yeah, and maybe Harmony had something to do with it," Steve agreed. "She seemed pretty certain that Spike got what he deserved."

"Who's Harmony?" Claudia asked.

"One of the students who found Spike's body stuffed in a gym locker," Myka answered, and shook her head at Pete, "I don't know; she may have not liked him, but according to them both, most of the students felt the same way. We can't know for sure which one has the best motive till we interview them."

Pete snorted, "Which is going to be difficult to do, thanks to Agent Summers!"

Myka paused. "Claudia?"

Claudia grinned at the trio, "You need me to do some research for you?"

"Yeah, just some names," Myka replied.

Claudia flexed her fingers, "Ready when you are, Agent Bering!"

A few hours later, the Warehouse team had a list of names and addresses for everyone Willow and Harmony had named: Cordelia Chase, the girl he'd jilted; Jonathan Levinson, the boy who did his homework for him; Anya Khan, whom he supposedly dated for a while; Finn Riley, the jock he fought with; and his alleged gang: Warren Mears, Ripper Gordon, Andy Wells, Wes Price, and Angus Lee. More importantly, they had the address of Spike Williams' family, and the names of his parents, Caleb and Drew.

"All right," Myka said as she set down the pad she'd been writing on. She looked at the other two, "I think it's safe to say that Agent Summers may have already covered most of these houses already, particularly the Williamses. I think we should start there and see where it goes, seeing as we know a bit more about the situation and what's really going on than she does."

Steve shook his head, "I just can't stop thinking about Vlad the Impaler and all the stuff we learned today. I mean, we know how the artifact might affect someone, but we still don't know what it is: a scepter? A cloak? A crown? What?"

Myka tipped her head, recalling the marks on Spike's neck and how there was something about them that bothered her. She looked up at Steve, "I don't know what it is," she said quickly, "but you can bet it's something small and pointy."

"Small and pointy?" Steve echoed, "like what? A stake?"

Myka shook her head, "I don't know—but those weren't fang marks on Spike's neck! They didn't line up like teeth would."

"You're saying the killer used something else to puncture Spike's neck?"

"I'm betting it will be the artifact," Myka said, grabbing her cell phone. "I'm going to text Claudia and tell her to look it up."

Pete didn't seem too worried about the whole thing. "I have a feeling everything will become clearer once we talk to Spike's parents."

Myka nodded as she set down her phone, "For now, let's get some sleep."

Across town, in a dark neighborhood, a cloaked figure slipped silently through an open window. The figure landed inside the house, in a bedroom, proving that this intruder knew the victim's house well. Very carefully, so as not to disturb the slumbering girl in the bed, the intruder left a calling card, an identifying mark to warn her. Gathering the dark, heavy cloak around itself, the figure seemed to waft from the room in a single blink, as soft as a moving breeze. The girl never stirred.


	4. Chapter 4: What the Cat Dragged In

The next morning, Myka awoke to the sound of a woman talking. Her eyes snapped open, and she immediately groped for her cellphone.

Dead; Myka mentally kicked herself for not getting the fritzing charge cord fixed. Now the Farnsworth was their only means of communicating with Claudia. And who knows what Claudia found about their unidentified artifact?

Myka sat up in bed. Steve leaned against the foot of it, watching a news reporter—the woman Myka had heard—give an account of a mysterious break-in that had occurred the previous night.

"For once, the intruder did not take anything," the newscaster quipped, "but left a dead animal fastened to the inside of the bedroom door of one Anya Khan, a student at the local Academy. Anya herself was not available for comment, but her parents told reporters that they are as confused and shocked as their daughter over this disturbing break-in."

The video switched to a good-looking man in his late thirties with smooth brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. The banner on the screen identified him as Forrest Khan. "Anya's room was closed, and yet whoever left this thing got in easily. It's definitely a message of some sort, and it's telling us that we're not safe from whatever it is."

The feed switched to Mrs. Joyce Khan, sitting next to her husband. "Anya is one of the most-admired girls at school, I just can't think of why—" she paused to cover her face with a tissue as sobs choked her, "—why anyone would do this!" she whimpered.

The reporter returned to the screen. "Not long after police responders were on the scene, at least two cars of federal agents arrived."

The Warehouse agents shared glances as the news camera clearly picked up Agents Summers and Harris getting out of the first vehicle.

"As of yet, we have received no word on the CIA's involvement in this case, but we will keep viewers informed as events develop. I'm Faith LeHane, and you're watching Sunnyville News Live."

Steve turned off the television as Myka threw off the covers and began hunting for her clothes so she could change out of her pajamas.

"That pushy little bossy-pants!" she fumed. "She was probably onto Anya as a potential victim anyway, that's why she blanked her information out before she handed the roster to us!"

"Well," Pete said, slipping on his pants as Myka stepped into the bathroom to change, "What do we do now?"

The three of them, dressed, gathered at the foot of the beds.

Myka grinned, "We do today what we couldn't do yesterday: question Spike's parents."

"But didn't Summers already do that?" Steve pointed out.

Myka nodded, "Yeah, but yesterday, she didn't know about the staked animal," she referred to the "calling card" left on Anya's door. "If Spike got the same treatment, it could help us predict when the next killing might be, and we can be there when it happens!"

"Boom! Who says we're redundant now?" Pete crowed.

Myka smirked at him. "That one really got to you, didn't it?"

Pete took her seriously, "Well, yeah!"

Steve shook his head, "Let's go; I'll drive."

"Shotgun!" Pete and Myka chorused.

In the end, Myka got the front seat. They arrived at the address listed on the roster, and Myka knew immediately that perhaps the Sunnyville Academy was not just a local school. Things clicked together in her mind.

"Pete," she murmured, "I think I've heard of Caleb Williams before."

"Really, Myka?" he whispered back as they approached the massive double doors of the mansion. "Where might this be?"

"Remember that one high end designer label that was released a few years ago?"

"What, the CW? Psh, yeah, who doesn't? Their jeans are the best—_ohmigod_!" He stared at Myka. "That—CW? Caleb Williams is _the CW_? Our bully is the son of a reclusive fashion magnate?"

"Cool it, fanboy," Myka warned him as she lifted the heavy knocker and rapped it against the door.

A man in business casual attire answered the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Hi, Mr. Williams?" Pete reached over Myka's shoulder to grasp her hand, "I just want to say that I'm a really big fan of the contributions you have made to the fashion industry, your work is flawless and cutting e—" He stopped mid-rave as the man stepped back and turned to someone else in the house, opening the door wider as he did so. Myka saw a man standing in the front hall of the house, watching the scene at his front door with amusement. She waved.

"Mr. Williams?" she guessed, and when he acknowledged, she made the introductions. "I'm Special Agent Myka Bering with the Secret Service and this is my partner, Agent Pete Lattimer, and also with us is Agent Steve Jinks with the ATF. may we come in?"

Caleb Williams nodded. "Yeah, come on in."

The man at the door stepped back to allow them in. He chuckled at Pete's confused expression. "Well, Caleb, I'll just let myself out."

"Yes, thank you Craig," Caleb waved to the man. "I'll let you know our decision on those properties once this mess is over and cleaned up." He nodded to the agents, "I thought the FBI and the CIA would be able to handle the issue, but if the President is now getting involved—"

"You don't have to worry," Myka assured him, having just come up with the perfect excuse. "We're here as more of a formality, an extra safeguard. There are still too many suspects to consider at this point, and we can't afford any information slipping through the cracks. Do you mind if we ask you a few more questions?"

Caleb shrugged, "We told the others everything we could—"

"In light of recent events," Pete cut in, eager to save face, "we may yet discover an as-yet-unexplored angle in the killing."

"Caleb?" A woman called down the stairs as she descended, "What's all the—"

Myka turned and gasped, recovering herself just in time. The woman now entering the room had dark hair, and for a split second, Myka nearly saw Helena Wells! But this woman had wide, staring eyes; she was certainly nothing like Myka's friend.

"Drew, honey," Caleb greeted her tenderly, "these are more government agents; they want to go over the circumstances of Spike's death—to see if maybe the same person might also be targeting Anya Khan, am I right?" he glanced at the agents, who nodded.

Drew Williams looked agitated, "Oh dear, do we have to go through that again?" She frowned and looked ready to break down sobbing at any moment.

Myka was filled with sympathy for her. "We have most of the information that the CIA agent leading this investigation does, we would just like to know—did either of you or anyone else in this house discover a dead animal anywhere in the house? One perhaps with a stake driven through it?"

Caleb looked confused, but Drew gaped in amazement. "Yes...but how did you know?"

Myka only nodded, "And how long was this before Spike went missing?"

Drew considered, "Well, it was the day before the dance he went to, and he—after that we never saw—" She couldn't finish as sobs choked her. Myka, Pete, and Steve exchanged glances. The forensics team had established that Spike's time of death matched sometime near the end of the party at the school. An entire day passed—with many people touching the locker—before anyone discovered Spike was missing. In Anya's case, that meant that she could be targeted that same evening. They needed to know who to watch for.

Caleb finished for his wife, "It was after Spike had left for the day. We found it on the back porch and assumed that it might have been the cat who left it, that's why we never volunteered the information—you're saying it was the killer, casing the house? That the animal is connected with the death?"

"Mr. Williams," Myka continued, showing him the list of names they had gathered from Willow and Harmony, "this is a list of suspects whom we have reason to believe might have had something to do with your son's death because of their connection to him. Do you know any of these students or their families? Is there any way you can help narrow the search?"

Caleb scanned the list quickly. "Well, if you've been talking to any other student at the Academy, no doubt you know of our son's reputation," he snorted. "But I see you have no teachers on this list. There were a few of them whom Spike thought had it out for him."

Myka stifled a groan, "You're saying a teacher might have killed your son?"

Caleb shrugged, "The CIA agent named a few teachers with connections to Spike when we talked to her. I assumed you were on the same page, but according to this list—" he tapped the paper in Myka's hand, "—which, by the way, is the shortest I've seen yet—you and the others might not be together on this."

Myka nodded, "All right, we'll go by this list, then. Thank you for your time," she stood and extended her hand, "and we'll do our best to try to ascertain the killer before he strikes again."

Caleb shook his head as they followed the three agents to the door. "I still can't believe one student actually murdered another. I mean, this kind of thing just doesn't happen! Whoever heard of a school that kept track of how many students died during the year?"

Steve nodded to him, "We're here to make sure it never happens again. Thank you for your time."

"Oh," Drew spoke up, grasping Myka's hand, "do be careful questioning some of the suspects on your list, Agent Bering," she warned. "You might not recognize the student's name, but the families of Sunnyville afford a special kind of privacy. Just be careful," she nodded.

Her crypticism confused and intrigued Myka, but she could only manage a feeble, "Okay," before Drew closed the door.

They climbed into the car, but did not leave right away.

"What was that all about?" Myka wondered aloud.

"I guess we'll just have to find that out for ourselves," Steve remarked.


	5. Chapter 5: Rings a Bell

The Levinsons and the Gordons lived just down the street from the Williamses. Myka, Pete, and Steve found out more about Spike and the nature of his relationship (or lack thereof) with Jonathan and Ripper (who preferred his nickname to his given name, Rupert), but beyond that, they could account for their whereabouts on the night in question, and the three agents could find no reason why those two might want Spike dead, not even Jonathan, who had begun charging Spike for his finished homework assignments.

"This deal pays well, and it was my revenge against him. Why would I want to kill off some easy income?" he asked them.

As they left the Gordons' house, Pete checked the other addresses on the GPS unit.

"Hmm," he murmured.

"What?" Myka asked, peeking at the screen.

"Well, the Pryces, the Chases, the Wellses, and the Lees all live nearby," he said, "but apparently it's all private roads."

"They're gated, too," a voice remarked.

The agents turned around as Harmony and Willow approached them.

The two girls wore matching outfits and pewter-plated jewelry of large pendants and chunky rings set with a stone encased in decorative filigree.

Willow had spoken, and she continued, "The Pryces and the Chases are Senate families."

"And the Lees have conections to a large financial firm," Harmony added, a glint in her eye as she fiddled with the ring on her finger.

Myka looked from one girl to the other. "What about—" she consulted her list again, "Finn Riley or Warren Mears?"

Harmony grinned at her darkly, "Those are nobody special." She raised her eyebrows significantly.

"Oh, I get it," Pete remarked as understanding broke over his face. "The Sunnyville Academy is open for rich kids to go incognito, along with the normal kids."

"Is that why the school office could only issue one copy of the roster?" Steve wondered.

Myka saw both girls getting a bit too interested in the case. She had to stop her partners from thinking aloud before they revealed any more information about the case to two girls who weren't that involved with the current situation. "Thanks, girls," she cut into the conversation, "You've been very helpful."

"I hope you find the person who did this, Agent Bering," Willow murmured, absently fiddling with her antique-looking pendant. It swung, clanging against her ring.

Myka nodded, "I am certain we will." Once the girl was out of earshot, Myka explained her guess to the guys. "What if Agent Summers blacked out the names of the high-profile students to maintain their privacy?"

Pete shrugged, "Privacy or not, one of them could be the killer, still."

Myka scoffed, "Okay, I am tired of following in that woman's footsteps! Isn't there some way we can figure out someone else to question, that she wouldn't? Like what about a teacher?"

Steve snapped his fingers. "The high-profile suspects! She didn't just black out the ones she didn't want us to touch; my guess is she didn't want to tangle with them, either."

Myka felt her stubbornness rising. "Well, I'm not about to show that kind of diplomacy if it means a killer goes free! Come on, boys, let's pay these people a visit."

The first place they visited was the Chase residence. The fact that they had to use their influence as government agents to distinguish themselves from unwanted solicitors or paparazzi did little to reassure Mrs. Chase. Mentioning Spike and Anya only made her angry at "what they did to poor Cordie!"

Myka recalled what she knew of the story, as heard from the two girls who were fast becoming their chief sources of information.

"The Khans seemed to believe that their daughter was above reproach," he hinted, "but one of the other students mentioned something about an agreement between your daughter and Anya concerning the principal and failing science class; would you be able to tell me more about that, Mrs. Chase?"

It was cruel, but it did the trick. "Where did you hear that story?"

Myka grinned at Pete and Steve standing behind her. Into the intercom, she said, "I don't feel at liberty to divulge that information; the student wishes to remain anonymous."

Mrs. Chase wasn't convinced. "Harmony or Willow?" she pressed.

The three agents glanced at each other; so, the pair had a reputation!

Steve leaned into the intercom, "Yes!" he answered. Anything to gain them an audience with the woman.

Mrs. Chase opened the gate. The interview was short and only marginally productive, and their hostess seemed strangely fidgety the whole time. When they left, she tried again.

"It was Willow, wasn't it?" she guessed.

The agents kept their faces blank and walked down the lane to the front gate.

Once they had visited Angus Lee, Andy Wells and Wesley Pryce, two things were clear: first, Anya Khan certainly fit the victim profile of a rich, popular bully who had till now transcended justice, and second, none of the students they interviewed seemed to have any kind of motive or means of getting an artifact and wanting to use it on another person. There were no mysterious packages, no vibe-inducing suspicious objects, nothing.

"Maybe the killer's name wasn't blacked out after all," Pete mused, looking over the roster again as they left the Mears' apartment.

"Okay, let's not rule out anything yet," Myka insisted with a sigh. "What do we know for sure? The killer is going to attack Anya tonight. Our best chance might be to stake out her home and catch the killer in the act."

"Lay in wait?" Steve echoed, "Are you sure that will work?"

Myka nodded, "I think it's our best option."

The two men shared a glance as they followed her.

Pete leaned in. "Or the only option," he whispered to Steve with a dubious expression.

Just then, the Farnsworth rang. Myka grabbed it.

"Claudia!" she cried.

Claudia grinned on the screen. "Ohmigod, what happened to you guys? Myka, I've been trying to get ahold of you all day-"

"Yeah, sorry," Myka winced, "my cell phone died and my charge cord isn't working...again."

Claudia smirked, "You realize that this is a prime moment for a very well-deserved 'I told you so', but as a testament to my maturity, I won't say it!" she bragged.

Myka rolled her eyes.

"What have you got, Claudia?" Steve asked, taking the device.

"I may have found your artifact," Claudia announced. "You remember the Halloween Blowout-Gone-Bad we took care of a while back at the Smithsonian? How a bunch of the historical artifacts on display reactivated and caused lots of mayhem?"

Steve winced, "How can I forget? You guys were trying to corral the mummies in the Egyptian Room while I was busy being chased down the halls by a reanimated werewolf!"

"Yeah, fun times," Claudia plowed ahead, "Anyway, I was just going over some of the stuff they had from Vlad the Impaler, and there's one item that was never recovered: Vlad's signet ring."

"They couldn't find it?" Pete asked as all three agents stopped to listen to what their friend had to say.

"Yeah, it might have left the building before we could round everything up, and by the time anyone realized it was still missing, there was no way to figure out who had it."

"Now that you mention it," Myka mused slowly, "I do remember that some of the guests had the fang-marks on their necks, but there was so much else going on that we assumed that we'd recovered everything." Ring, a signet ring-several of the people they interviewed had antiques and jewelry prominently displayed in the home... but none of them were likely suspects. What were they missing?

"Pete, if I could get your number," Claudia continued, "I'll send you a picture of the ring so you know what it looks like. It has the Dracul family crest on it."

"Okay," Pete responded.

Once this was done, the three agents returned to the hotel to regroup and prepare for a long night at the Khan house.


	6. Chapter 6: When Vampires Attack

The three Warehouse agents slouched against the wall.

"Mykes? Hey, Myka!"

Myka turned an exasperated expression on Pete.

"I don't think he's coming tonight."

She shook her head, "He's coming; he has to! He isn't going to break his MO so soon; I doubt he even realizes we're onto him."

The call of an owl broke the silence. Myka grinned.

"That's Steve," Pete remarked, "somebody's coming."

Myka nodded. "At least we know the ring doesn't make him invisible," she murmured. "You take the back, I'll go through the front."

"Got it."

Myka crept around the side of the house, grateful that the Khans had turned off their security system for this one night. It evidently could not keep the killer out, so Myka reasoned with Mrs. Khan that the only people tripping the alarm would be the three of them, and they wouldn't want it spooking the mysterious killer.

Myka sidled up the front steps, clinging to the wall and using shadows to her advantage as she slipped through the open front door. Was the killer already on his way up to the bedroom? Myka glanced at the second level landing, trying to discern any movement.

A body slammed into her before she realized that it had come from the doorway below the stairs, which led to the main room of the house.

Myka frantically pushed back against her masked attacker. Her adversary was strong—superhuman strong? Was this the killer, looking to score bonus kills before hitting his intended target? Myka reached for the wrists, paying careful attention to the hand. No rings of any kind on or under those black gloves. Myka kicked, but the person sprang away from her outstretched leg. Myka then had to dodge a flying foot herself—and promptly took a blow to the shoulder. She wrestled the black-garbed intruder away from the stairs. Her opponent would have none of it. In the darkness of the hall, the stealthy enemy seemed to melt into the shadows. Myka stopped and held her breath, listening carefully. A single footfall told her where to strike. As they renewed their conflict, Myka was dimly aware of Pete's desperate voice calling her name.

"Pete!" she shrieked, and the noise distracted the intruder long enough for Myka to get her hands on the adversary's throat. Claw and pull as the person might, Myka wasn't about to let go.

"Nobody else is dying on my watch," she snarled into that black face.

"Myka," Pete's voice was strained, and sounded nearby. "Stop."

A flashlight beam interrupted the fight, and Myka got her first glimpse of the dark offender.

Immediately, she released her attacker, as someone flipped on the lights.

"You!" she gasped.

"You?" Agent Summers—dressed all in black—echoed.

Myka swung around to where Harris—also all in black—held a gun to Pete's shoulder. "You!"

Harris lowered the gun, and Pete shrugged. "What can I say? Me too!"

"Guys!"

Everyone flinched as several thuds echoed from upstairs.

Myka heard Steve's voice continue, "I've got it! I have it—Ow!"

A crash indicated a shattering window, and Steve slowly appeared at the top of the stairs, cradling his bleeding arm.

"Steve!" Myka cried, running toward him.

"I'll be fine," he gasped, "it's not deep." He looked up as Harris silently offered a damp cloth from the kitchen to clean the wound. Steve showed Myka a gash about an inch long, just above the crook of his elbow.

The five agents moved outside to the porch so as not to disrupt the family any further. They gathered a short ways down the driveway, where Summers had parked a black Excursion in the shadows.  
"What happened?" Myka asked as she accepted the First Aid kit from Summers and placed a large gauze pad over the cut and fastened it with medical tape.

"Well," Steve sighed, "After I signaled to you guys that someone was coming, I waited till I saw it crawl into a window before I followed it."

"Followed what?" Summers demanded. "What are you guys doing on my scene?"

Steve looked the agent dead in the eye, "The vampire. I followed it down the hall toward Anya's room—and that's when the noise you all made distracted it, and it turned around, and in the moonlight, I saw it." There was such a look of terror on his face that Pete and Myka both shivered involuntarily.

Summers remained skeptical. "You? Saw a vampire?" she snorted, "No, seriously, what was it?"

"Could you tell who it was?" Myka asked.

"Was it Dracula?" Harris suddenly interjected.

"Xander!" Summers chided him.

Myka couldn't tell if the dark-haired man was teasing or in earnest.

Steve shook his head, "I don't think so, I mean, one look at that face and all I could think was... It's a vampire—and then it sniffed, like it could smell me."

"Smell you?" Summers wrinkled her nose more at the idea than at any actual scent Steve might have had.

Pete sought to set the record straight. "Yeah, I mean, that fits; a common belief about vampires is that they can smell people's blood."

Steve nodded. "Well it sure smelled mine! and then it attacked me, and I cut my arm on one of the wall hangings, and then it jumped out the window."

Agent Summers frowned. "Great! So our number one suspect whose identity we have not even established is in the wind, thanks to you guys—"

"Hey!" Myka stood defensively.

"—and on top of that, you three seem convinced that it us an actual vampire! What is with you guys?" she looked between the three of them. "Some kind of horror-geek club? Vampire hunters? The Scooby-Doo Gang? Is this a game to you?"

"It's not a game, okay?" Pete fired back, advancing toward the irate agent. "This is every bit our job as it is yours!"

"Oh yeah?" Agent Summers wouldn't back down. "How so? You got any officially-notarized authorization to back up that mouth of yours?" She smirked, "I got mine."

"Guys," Myka had calmed down enough to see a margin of reason in the situation, "we are on the same side, here. We can't afford to play 'whose badge is bigger' while there is a threat—be it human or otherwise—" she emphasized her words and frowned at Summers, who rolled her eyes, "—on the loose. We tried staking out the potential victim and ended up saving the target while losing the arrow, so to speak."

"And _who's_ at fault, here?" Summers inserted again. "Who's the team doing a job that's not in any federal agent training manual _ever_?"

Myka didn't respond to her insinuation. "What would be your plan B?"

Summers blinked as everyone else waited patiently for her command. She expected to at least watch the three "rogue agents" take over or split off, but here was Agent Bering, asking her for advice!  
"Well, um, ah—" she stammered, "Plan B was to circulate rumors about another trouble kid, set a trap for the killer on an equal playing field, one of our choosing."

Myka nodded, "So far all the victims have been relatively okay students, but very antagonistic to their fellow students."

"Yeah, remember what Angus said?" Pete nudged Myka.

Summers eyed him sharply as Myka tried to pretend the comment never happened. "Angus? You mean Angus Lee?" Her eyelids came up in an expression of shock and terror, "You went and talked to the blackout students, didn't you? I should have known! Does professional procedure mean nothing to you guys?"

Pete tried to diffuse her anger by brushing it off, "Yeah, well, in our line of work, we have to consider all the angles without dismissing important facts too early!"

Summers threw up her hand, "There you go again with that 'our line of work' thing! I'm beginning to think those badges are fake!"

"Hey now, don't jump to conclusions!" Pete retorted.

Summers sniffed, "I didn't have to jump; I just took a tiny step and there the conclusions were!" She reached to her pocket to pull out a phone. "You know what? As a matter of fact, don't go anywhere, I'm going to make a call."

While she was away, Myka turned to Harris.

"Who is the student you are going to spread rumors about?"

Harris hesitated, glancing toward Summers. His inclinations were plain.

"Dude, just let her go," Pete cajoled him.

Harris sighed and pulled up a photo on his smartphone.

"Ozzie Osborne," he told them, showing a photo of a blank-faced young man with spiky red hair.

"The Ozzy Osbourne?" Pete asked incredulously.

"No, thickhead," Harris answered, "This is a student at Sunnyville Academy with a rep. He'll make perfect bait if the perpetrator's MO holds."

Myka was about to ask another question, when Harris suddenly jerked the phone away. Summers was headed back toward them, walking slowly.

"Well, the director seems to think you're all right, and your licensing checks out," she admitted.

"Does that mean we get to come with you when you set up surveillance on Ozzie?" Steve asked immediately.

Summers nailed Harris with a look. "You three don't miss a beat, do you?" She snorted, "Fine! Bring the whole Gang! Bring the Mystery Machine—but don't get in my way again!" She shoved Pete on the shoulder. "We're planning to arrange a meeting with him at the park when his band, Beagles Ate My Darling, finishes performing at the Brass. You three can be spectators, while Harris and I get some real work done, you got that?"

Myka shrugged, "All right, we'll watch."

Summers eyed her suspiciously, unprepared for cooperation, but she had no choice except to take Agent Bering's words at face value.

Myka wasn't finished, "How were you planning on setting Ozzie up as bait?"

Summers shrugged, "Oh, the usual, planting anonymous rumors all around popular social networking sites, find a way to drop hints around the school grounds—though that would be difficult for adults like us to blend in."

"Oh, I don't know," Pete piped up again, "I think you're the only one of us who could actually pass for a high school student at twenty."

Summers glared at him, "I could so kick your ass right now!"

"Maybe we don't have to worry about blending in," Myka proposed. "The three of us have been gathering intel from a couple students, and they seem willing to help."

"Harmony and Willow!" Steve took up the idea. "They could be the ones to spread the rumor, and get kids talking about Ozzie."

"I'll see about talking with those two tomorrow before school," Summers volunteered. "You three sit tight until tomorrow evening. Enjoy the town, see some sights! I hear they have a magic shop that is quite incredible. For now, Xander and I have to get back to home base. See you later!" She and Harris climbed into the car and drove away.

Myka checked her watch, "Guys, it's almost 2AM, we should get back and get some sleep."

Steve shook his head as he followed. "I had my hands on whoever that was; it was definitely real—but very..."

"Vamp-y?" Myka finished.

Steve shrugged. All if them silently hoped that the next night would be their last—but how were they supposed to get in and retrieve the ring without Summers trying to stop them, or think that they were trying to stop her? How could any of them predict that this trap would even work?

In everyone's dreams that night, the Sunnyville Vampire came for them all, showing plainly the ring on it's hand before sucking all of their blood...


	7. Chapter 7: The Stinger Stung

Myka, Pete, and Steve sat in their rental car obscured by dense foliage on the trees near the parking lot. They had a clear view of the rendezvous point from there.

Myka tried to think of something to kill time. It was 10:30, and yet Ozzie had not shown up yet.  
"So, what do we know about this kid?" she asked the others.

Pete pulled out his phone and checked his notes. "Well, Ozzie is a successful recording artist who has produced several solo albums and has been on tour since his preteen years. This stint with the crazy-named band, performing at a nightclub is his way of going incognito."

Myka frowned, "Seriously?"

"He plays backup guitar," Pete explained.

She nodded, "Okay, so once again he's rich and high-profile—and a bully?"

"I got this," Steve interposed. "I had Claudia look him up, and apparently he did a stint in juvie some years back for breaking into a Minit-Mart and shoplifting in full view of the cameras."

"Hmph! Shy, much?"

"Willow said he's been tossing around at school, flaunting all the rules, habitually doing what people tell him not to, just because it suits him."

"So in other words," Myka commented wryly, "The perfect candidate."

"Here he comes now," Pete muttered.

Ozzie sauntered down the path to the large tree under the street lamp that Summers had established as the rendezvous point. He stood in the bright light, bored at being kept waiting for more than thirty seconds.

Abruptly, Summers emerged from the shadows and approached him. Myka wished now more than ever that she could read lips at this distance. What wouldn't she give to know what the skeptical agent was saying to a potential victim to convince him to stay as unwitting bait? She glanced over at Pete, who she was sure could track the conversation.

Her partner didn't appear to be tracking much of anything else. The frown on his face seemed etched into his skin, and that could mean only one thing.

"Bad vibes?" she asked.

Pete nodded, "The worst, the kind that usually mean something nasty is on it's way."

Myka opened the door immediately. "That could be our vampire, come on, let's get out there."

They exited the car and slowly combed over the whole area.

"See anything?" Pete asked the other two.

"Nope," Myka whispered back.

"I think I see movement," Steve pointed to the row of trees stretching through the park, "and it's coming on fast!"

"It's the vampire, all right," Myka stated, "and it's headed straight for those two!" She took off running toward Agent Summers.

The CIA agent was still chatting away with Ozzie, oblivious to the impending danger.

"—so then there's this one guy who absolutely hated my—"

_"LOOK OUT!"_

Myka caught her in a flying tackle just as the sailing black figure coasted by them. Summers raised her head from the dirt and savagely bucked Myka off.

"_Are you insane_?" she shrieked.

Myka, from the ground, pointed to the black figure pinning Ozzie to the tree.

"Hey!" Summers called, running toward them.

The figure gave a flourish of its cape before zipping straight up the tree.

Summers reached Ozzie's side, but it was too late. A deep gash ran across his neck, and blood gushed out as his eyes lolled toward the agent who had sworn to protect him, and then back into his skull. His chest pulsed out his last feeble struggles for breath, and then he lay still. Summers just stared at him. Myka couldn't think of the right thing to do in this tense, awful moment.

"What-The _heck-_Was-That—_thing_?" Agent Summers' voice sounded hollow and laden with emotion. She looked up at Myka, and for the first time, the Warehouse agent saw the terror that had till now been bottled up inside.  
"What did it do to him? How could anyone move so fast? What is this, Sunnydale, or something? You're telling me those things are real?"

"More or less," Myka admitted, helping the shocked agent to her feet.

"Buffy! Buffy!" Yelling the strange name, Agent Harris came running toward them.

Myka saw Summers react, and she guessed, "Your name is Buffy?"  
Buffy Summers smirked, "I prefer Beth, but my parents were hippies, so there you have it. Ever since he learned my given name," she sighed, "He's never let me live it down. He seems to think Buffy is a better fit than Beth."

"Boy, that was really something," Xander panted as he arrived. "What a doozy of a first case, eh, Buffy? Never thought the field would look quite like this, did ya?"

Agent Summers ducked her head to hide the blush of shame.

"This is your first case?" Pete asked.

Xander nodded, and Beth suddenly burst out, "Go ahead, laugh! Make fun of the desk jockey who hadn't seen the real world yet!" She scowled at them, "I know you all wanted me gone, anyway; let the more experienced field agents do the work! I was doing it all wrong, anyway. I don't really know what I'm doing, I'm just going through the motions."

The three Warehouse agents glanced at each other.  
"Actually," Myka said, "we still want you on this case with us."

Beth sniffed, "You do?"

"Yeah," Steve agreed enthusiastically, "you're doing a better job than you give yourself credit for, and we couldn't have organized this stakeout without you."

Beth folded her arms skeptically, "Okay, so if we're going to be working together, I want some honesty out of you three."

"Sure," Pete agreed readily.

"Are we or are we not on the trail of a real vampire?"

The direct query pulled them up straight. Myka, Pete, and Steve glanced at each other; how much should they tell?  
"Well," Myka finally answered slowly, "No, not really."

Beth stamped her foot, "But then how could—"

"It's more of an illusion," Myka continued. "What we're looking for is a ring." She glanced at Pete, "Did you ever get that photo from Claudia?" she whispered.

Pete pulled out his phone, "Right here." He brought the picture up and showed it to Beth and Xander.

Myka glimpsed it and instantly remembered seeing it before. "Wait, a ring... The ring!" She looked at the others with a stunned expression. "I know where I've seen it before!"

"Where, Myka?" Pete asked quickly.

"Just yesterday, when we were interviewing everybody," Myka explained. How could she have missed it? "I totally saw the ring on someone's finger and completely overlooked the connection. Guys, I know who the killer is!"


	8. Chapter 8: Closing In

Myka and Beth stopped by the Academy the next morning. The students gave them confused and scared looks, but that was all. The atmosphere felt hushed and very subdued, like a question everybody had but was afraid to ask.

Myka found Harmony first. She stood among the wisteria, where Myka had first discovered the two girls. She seemed exceptionally worried about something, constantly scanning faces and looking over her shoulder.

"Harmony?" Myka caught her attention.

Harmony gasped and reached for her. "Oh, Agent Bering, thank goodness! I was just going to contact you!"

Myka furrowed her brow, "Contact me about what? Where's Willow?"

Harmony gulped, "That's just it! I haven't seen her at all today! She usually rides the bus, but she wasn't there, and she usually meets me here, but I don't know where she could be!" The poor blond was almost hyperventilating.

Myka grasped her hands out of concern; in reality, she got a good look at the ring Harmony wore. It was an amber stone encased in decorative pewter filigree, but it wasn't an exact match to the Dracul crest.

Harmony caught her looking. "What is it?" she asked.

Myka tried to keep their conversation light, "That's a nice ring; where did you get it?"

Harmony pulled away and shrugged, "Willow's mom gave us both our rings, only Willow's ring looks more like a coat of arms than mine does." She glanced up pitifully at the Warehouse agent, "Do you think you could find out what happened to her? Like maybe the killer got to her already?"

Myka shivered as the possibility rocked her. After all, they hadn't been watching anyone else but Ozzie the last couple days. "I will...get back to you on that," Myka hedged.

Harmony turned back toward the front door of the school. "I have to go now," she said. Angus Lee stood not ten paces away; Myka suddenly realized that he'd been standing there, and Harmony had been eyeing him for a while. How much had he heard? What was his part in this?

"Please find her," Harmony begged. She walked past Myka to join Angus.

Myka stood on the walkway as Harmony entered the building on Angus' arm.

Pete sighed and rested his hands on his hips. "Come to think of it, we were so focused on the girls and other students connected with Spike that we never even met the Kendalls or the Rosenbergs."

Steve frowned, "No, something is wrong; what she said—"

"Guys, look! It's Willow!" Myka pointed to where Willow was just climbing out of a cranberry-colored SUV.

"And her mom," Beth noted vindictively.

They all waited as Willow walked right toward them. Myka noticed that Mrs. Rosenberg did not seem particularly pleased to see a group of agents apparently waiting for her daughter; did the woman really have something to hide?

"Hi, Willow," Myka smiled, as if the whole conversation with Harmony had never happened.

Beth, however, had no such reservations. "Where'd you get that ring?" she grabbed Willow's right hand. "Did your mom give it to you? Where did she get it?"

Willow was both offended and confused. "What? I don't know what you're talking about. I got it from Harmony! It's our friendship ring; what's my mom got to do with it?"

Myka glanced at the ring; the only distinction from the Dracul signet ring they sought was the absence of the bat at the top of the shield. Did that mean both rings were fakes?

"Willow, we were just talking to Harmony," she said carefully, watching the girl's reaction, "and she seemed really worried that you weren't at your usual spots this morning."

Willow snorted, "Yeah, right; did she say that I might have gotten killed by the vampire? Let me ask you this: was Angus with her?"

Myka blinked; how could she have known? "Yeah, kind of, near the end."

Willow shook her head, "Whenever Harmony's worried about me, she clings to Angus and thinks up the absolute worst-case scenarios to explain my absence. It's probably just her way of trying to get his attention."

Myka saw Steve watching Willow very carefully as she asked the student, "So where were you this morning?"

"I had an appointment," Willow responded quickly, "now if you'll excuse me—"

"One more thing," Agent Summer stepped in. "Willow, do you remember how we asked you to spread the word about Ozzie's reputation?"

Willow paused, and relaxed a bit more. "Yeah," she said, "did it work? Were you able to find the person you wanted?"

"Almost," Myka admitted. "But we want you to spread one more rumor for us."

"And what might that be?"

Beth smirked as she handed the redhead a list of names, "Willow, you're going to make sure it gets around that these people are all getting together in the gym at midnight for a haze party." She winked for good measure.

Willow smiled, "Oh sure, a party; who would want to miss that? I'll do that for you guys, if it helps you find the killer."

"Oh, this will," Myka said as Willow walked through the doors and into the building.

As soon as the quadrangle was clear, the agents conferred.

"Steve?" Myka asked.

"Both girls were lying, at least about parts of what they said," he answered. "What parts those were, I couldn't quite tell."

Beth leaned over to Pete. "What is this guy," she whispered, "some kind of human lie detector?"

"It's like a really annoying sixth sense," he muttered back. "You don't know the half of it."

"Yeah," Myka was saying, "their stories weren't lining up in a way I didn't like, either. I mean, why would Harmony implicate Willow's mother, while Willow goes and paints Harmony as a liar?"

"Yeah," Xander agreed, "and how could Willow guess exactly what Harmony told us as the reason for why she hadn't shown?"

"We have another problem," Myka sighed, "Neither ring is a perfect match for the signet ring. They're both close, but not exact."  
Beth flinched and stared at her. "What was different?" she asked abruptly.

"Well, Harmony's ring had too much of the twisty filigree stuff on it," Myka explained, "and Willow's had almost the whole crest except the bat at the top." She glanced quizzically at the agent. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Beth said quickly. "I guess the only thing to do is wait and see which one shows up tonight."

"Yeah, and make sure no warm bodies do!" Pete remarked. "We'd better start calling the parents from that list or we've just handed our killer a smorgasbord!"

At 11:30 that evening, the five agents waited in the empty gym. They had to leave it dark to present the illusion of a secret party, and the moonlight streaming through the windows only made the shadows deeper and more threatening. Just when they were beginning to wonder if the trap had failed, Myka heard footsteps out in the hall. A silhouette of a girl appeared in the doorway.

"Hello?" she called, inching forward and looking around. "Guys, are you here? Angus?"

Her hair was light; was it Harmony after all?

"Freeze!" Harris stepped toward her and shone a flashlight in her face.

Willow, wearing a light-colored scarf over her head, squinted back at him. "Ouch! Who are you?"

Agent Summers emerged, carrying a flashlight herself, "Willow, it's just us, we don't want to hurt you."

"Yeah," Pete chimed in, "we just don't want you to hurt any more people, either."

"Agent Bering?" Willow sounded incredulous. "So all that rumor-spreading was a _lie_? You lied to me?" she began panting and her voice rose in pitch. "You _lied_! You made _me_ lie, and you _lied to me_!"

"Willow, listen to me," Myka tried to explain, "we know about the ring, and what it does, so just hand it here—"

"_NO_!" Willow shrieked, reaching for her own hand. She twisted the gem on the ring, and the crest unfolded into a device resembling a bat's head with two fangs protruding—or there should have been two.

Myka glanced at Beth. "You were right," she said, "One's missing."

That didn't seem to stop Willow. Her eyes flashed a strange red light. When she spoke again, her voice sounded hollow and hissing.  
"Lying is wrong!" she thundered, "you must pay!"


	9. Chapter 9: Hell Hath No Fury

Abruptly, Willow slammed right into Xander, her arms outstretched. He skidded several yards across the floor from the impact.

"Hey!" Pete called, reaching for her hand.

Vampire Willow whirled around, and instead of Pete grabbing her wrist, she grabbed his, and flung him over her back in a body slam.

"Hiya!" Beth didn't even give a warning before she let loose with a high kick squarely in the back of Willow's head.

Willow stumbled forward a few paces, but she didn't fall. She turned to confront Beth, but the resourceful agent still held her flashlight, which she shined in Willow's face.

Willow screamed at the light, and in less time than it takes to blink she had covered the distance between herself and the wall of the gym. She disappeared among the rafters before Beth could get a fix on her.

"Darn it!" she spat. The agent tried to shine her beam around the ceiling, but she couldn't make out even a tiny variation in the shadows.

Perched on the top row of the bleachers, Steve had a better vantage point.  
"There she is!" he cried.

With a deafening screech, Willow dropped out of the rafters, swinging like a gymnast to get to him. Steve scrambled down to get away from her. Myka knew their best chance was a diversion and flanking maneuver.

"Hey!" she hollered, "Willow!"

Willow whirled around and hissed at her.

"Yeah, that's right," Myka continued, maintaining eye contact, however creepy the eyes were. "You don't have to feel threatened by us, okay? We get it; we know why Spike had to die."

Beth stepped closer behind Myka. "That's right! We—wait, we do?" she turned to Myka, who still wouldn't take her eyes off of Willow.

"You were the one he brought to the prom instead of Cordelia," she said softly. "He used you—but that was the only date you two ever had. Right after she dumped him, he started going out with Anya, and he forgot all about you."

Willow stared vacantly; one could almost see the scene replaying in her tortured mind. "He made so many promises; he broke every one of them! He was unfaithful, untruthful! A liar and a cheat! Such deeds cannot go unpunished!"

"And Anya?" Pete muttered.

Myka glanced only briefly to acknowledge the question, "My guess is she probably never let Willow forget that she'd been passed over."

Willow was trembling with rage and anguish now. "She was a horrible wench! She thought she could do as she pleased because she was rich and famous! Cruelty deserves naught but cruelty in return!"

Beth frowned, "But what about Ozzie?"

Willow's head snapped up. "YAAAAHHH!" she screamed as she suddenly launched herself at the agent. Beth felt the superhuman strength in the fingers that dug into her shoulders as the two of them practically flew into the far wall, where Willow pinned her.  
"**_HE BROKE MY HEART!_**" the fearsome young girl roared in the agent's face. "And now, as punishment for your crimes, Agent Summers, I will relieve you of yours!" She raised a hand with fingers bared, and Beth didn't doubt for a minute that that this inhuman thing before her would at least try to dig out the organ in question with her bare hands.

"I'll take this if you don't mind," said a voice calmly, and Steve popped up behind Willow and reached for the ring on her outstretched finger.

Upon losing the ring, Willow dropped Beth, but her appearance and capacity had not changed.  
"Give that to me," she snarled, "_thief!_" She lunged for him, and once again, Steve scrambled just ahead of her reach.

He ran the breadth of the gym, yelling, "Myka, get a bag! Get a bag!"

Pete produced a neutralizer packet from his pocket and held it open. "Got it!" he called.

Too late! Steve felt Willow clutch his ankle and he began to fall. Desperately, he flung the ring into the air.  
Like a World Series outfielder, Pete cradled the open bag in one hand as he tracked the trajectory of the ring with his eyes. Willow had Steve's wrists pulled behind his back, and she was trying to get at his neck.

FZZZZT!

The ring landed in the bag as neatly as a catcher's mitt. Pete sealed it, and everyone sighed in relief.  
The lights came on, courtesy of Agent Xander. Willow was just returning to her normal mental capacity, when she noticed where she was.

"What—Oh, I'm sorry!" she immediately stood, allowing Steve to regain his feet.

"No harm done," he panted.

Willow looked around at the agents, especially Summers and Harris, who seemed to be watching her as if she were a rare and dangerous creature. "What happened? Why am I here?" she asked.

Myka smiled and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's a long story, but I'll try and explain as much as I can."

Xander, Pete, and Steve waited together on the sidewalk next to the school parking lot. Beth finished explaining things to Mrs. Rosenberg as best she could.

The feisty agent was still wincing and shrugging when she joined them.

"Are you going to be okay?" Pete asked.

Beth bobbed her head, "Got some pretty deep bruises, but they'll heal." She eyed the silver bag in Pete's hand. "So...that's what you guys do? Your 'line of work'?"

Pete shrugged, "Ehh, it varies from mission to mission, but yeah; bag and tag is the name of the game."

"Tag?" Beth repeated, "For what?"

Just at that moment, Myka joined them, having finished with Willow and allowed her to return with her mother.  
"She's agreed to go to the authorities and confess to the two murders tomorrow," the warehouse agent remarked simply. "For now, I think it might help to be able to sleep without the whammy-demons running through her head."

Beth shook her head, "It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'rest in peace'! Geez, I have to say," she turned to Myka with admiration in her eyes, "I won't pressure you to give me the particulars of your job, but from what I've seen tonight, I don't envy you a bit!" She smirked, "If I had to go around fighting vampires and monsters like you guys do, I'd probably end up killing myself!"

Myka pressed her lips. "The thing is, Beth—I don't mind telling you that we don't really fight monsters and things that ordinarily don't exist; what we fight are things, powerful things, that make people do dangerous things. Our job—a little part of it—is to take those things and keep them safe from people who would use them to harm other people."

Beth shook her head, "Well, the next time you show up, I'll make sure not to get in your way again," she extended a hand, "how does that sound?"

Myka shook it, "I think that sounds like a workable relationship."

Beth nodded, and turned to her partner. "C'mon, Xander; we've got a flight to catch."

Myka turned to her own partners. "I think our work here is done."

Pete snorted, "Okay, one more night in that crummy motel, then Goodbye, Sunnyville!"  
The three agents climbed into the car. Myka watched the fading shape of the academy as they drove away.

_Goodbye, Sunnyville,_ she thought.


End file.
